


cause you get lighter the more it gets dark

by acrosticacrumpet



Category: Naruto
Genre: ATTEMPTS AT DORKS IN LOVE, M/M, canon? what's that?, i accidentally made sasuke and ino bffs help, ninjadorks, there's no plot do not look for plot, why is ino always the matchmaker friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrosticacrumpet/pseuds/acrosticacrumpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasuke was never supposed to find Uzumaki Naruto attractive. (Of course it's never been that simple.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	cause you get lighter the more it gets dark

**Author's Note:**

> AHAHAHAHAHHAHA I'M TRASH
> 
> this was supposed to be two lines long and then it GREW
> 
> the storyline was a rush job because it's exam season and i have a ton of stuff i want to write but yeah i hope someone enjoys it

Sasuke has one question for himself – well, actually he has a lot of questions for himself, his therapist is getting him to try to question his own motives and think about the reasons for his reactions more often, but as of right now his main question is this: _When the fuck did Uzumaki Naruto get so fucking attractive_. In his head he leaves out the upward inflection and the mental question mark, because in many ways it’s more of an angry exclamation than a question.

 

By all rights it shouldn’t be possible, which makes it even worse that it is. Naruto tells nothing but bad jokes, and every time you see him there’s a 50/50 chance that he’ll be lifting his head from a bowl of ramen as you greet him, and he – he _blazes_ with a sheer determination that’s embarrassing to even look at, and none of this should be attractive. And it is. Sasuke is resisting the urge to bang his head against the wall because his therapist might tell him he needs to remember to be undignified sometimes but he hasn’t fallen _that_ far yet.

 

And then there are the times when he sees Naruto unexpectedly out of the corner of his eye, and is struck by the power in that tall strong figure (well, moderately tall – he stands like he’s tall, anyway), by the burning strength that’s only ever leashed, never quiet, and finds he can’t look away. Or the times when Naruto throws him one of those quick smiles, easy and warm and careless and the only fire in it is that of the sun, and he can’t breathe. (God, how is it so easy, how does Naruto smile at him so easily –) Or the times their eyes meet and he feels caught, held still by that blue gaze, hot as summer.

 

They sit and talk over ramen at Ichiraku, and Sasuke finds that every time he looks at Naruto, he feels this strange painful tug in his chest. It’s a good kind of hurt, though. Not like all that time he spent, after – after Itachi died, when he could barely feel anything, least of all pain, for the huge dark hurt that spread through him and hung over him and made him numb. This is a sharp ache, like those times when you see an eagle, high up above you on the wind, and feel a sudden urge to cry. Like late twilight in summer, when the sky is a hollow purple-blue, reaching for dusk but never quite touching it. Longing.

 

He’s pretty sure Ayame has spotted him looking at Naruto that way, because these days she looks at him sharply as if to say, _if you hurt my little brother I will find you and make you beg for death, shinobi or not_. Ha. As if he has a chance. Well, he probably could still hurt Naruto: it’s one of his recurring fears, that he could end up hurting Naruto again, that he wouldn’t be able to help himself. But not the way she’s thinking.

 

Maybe she’s not thinking that at all, and she just doesn’t trust him since he left Naruto half-dead at the Valley of the End. He’s probably projecting.

 

(It does scare him, though, thinking about how he used to be. For all he wanted to think of himself as a mature adult, back then – he was a lost kid, plain and simple. All his decisions felt like there was no other option. Like he was fighting to breathe, drowning in the sudden sea of his brother’s betrayal, in the taste of blood in his mouth as Itachi looked down at him with those blood-red eyes. He regrets those decisions now – of course he does – but if he went back, and talked to his past self… what could he possibly say to that eight-year-old, angry and hurt and determined not to trust anything in the world ever again? What could he say that would outweigh that?

 

His therapist has said to him that in a way he was making his choices blind, never letting himself see the full picture, looking at everything through the filter of What Itachi Did. He doesn’t ever want to be blind like that again, not when he’s seen what it did to everyone. There are small things – a particular expression of Kakashi-sensei’s and something in the way he holds himself, the way Sakura sometimes takes a deep breath before speaking, the clench of her fists – the way Naruto looks at him like he’s something Naruto never expected to get back and still doesn’t quite believe is here – small things that make him look at the floor, shame flooding through him.

 

His therapist has told him not to worry too much about it. If he fears it that much, he’s probably never going to go back to it. _Think about the future_ , he’s been told: _think about the outcome you want, and the things you want to avoid, and how you’re going to achieve that._ _Think about the things you can do now, instead of the things you didn’t do back then_.

 

It’s probably good advice. It would help if Sasuke actually had any concrete plans besides _Don’t fuck everything up_.)

 

He accidentally lets it slip to Ino how he’s been feeling around Naruto, at which point she falls about laughing and takes a good five minutes to calm down again. “Sorry,” she says, wiping her streaming eyes. “Oh, I should start taking bets. I’d make a fortune.” They’ve been friends, and getting closer, since he came back: Ino walked right up to him, ignoring Shikamaru and Chouji watching avidly from behind her, and slapped him right in the face. _That’s for trying to do everything by yourself and making us all unhappy_ , she said, at the time. _Now come on, we’re going to talk. I cried over you a lot of times, you know, you at least owe me some gossip_. She’s changed a lot from the ambitious little girl in the Academy, desperate to prove herself, be everything to everyone. These days she seems OK growing at her own pace. She’s an expert people-reader, and she always seems to know what he’s thinking, which makes it her good to talk to; it also makes her slightly terrifying. Sasuke can never quite tell if he’s being manipulated. He finds, to his surprise, that he doesn’t really mind.

 

She’s still giggling a little. Sasuke gives her a Look that says very clearly that anyone who tries to make money out of his love life – or lack thereof – will rue it; then he relents, knowing it’s useless to try to argue Ino out of something. “You’d better cut me in,” he says, by way of a compromise.

 

“Ten percent,” Ino offers, eyes sparkling.

 

“Fuck you,” Sasuke counters eloquently. “Seventy-five at least. If you’re taking bets on my love life, I should get the lion’s share of the profit.”

 

Ino grins. “Please, like you’d get anywhere without me.” She’s right. Sasuke’s glare slides off her like water off a duck’s back. “But seriously, Sasuke, that’s hilarious. Tell me everything.”

 

“Your amusement does not exactly inspire me to confide in you,” Sasuke says, dry and straight-faced.  

 

Ino gives him a Look, and he starts talking. The genuine wrath with which he refers to Naruto’s inexplicable and infuriating attractiveness makes her start laughing again, but she doesn’t laugh when he starts trying to explain that strange yearning ache. That terrible sense of longing, the best thing he’s felt for years. When he runs out of words (which doesn’t take long: trying to talk about this leaves him tongue-tied and feeling clumsy), there’s an odd, pensive look in her eyes.

 

“You know, people are never going to let you forget this,” she says, a hint of laughter in her tone: Sasuke suspects her of trying to cheer him up. “The great Uchiha Sasuke, student of one of the Sannin, the guy who killed two S-rank missing-nin on his own, the guy who swore he’d never come back to Konoha – and he comes back because he’s got the biggest crush of all time on Uzumaki Naruto.”

 

“That’s not why I came back, though,” he interjects, feeling compelled to point this out. He feels Ino’s gaze on him as he stares into the distance, caught – as he so often is – by the memory. “I didn’t feel that way about him then.” He casts around for the right words. “I mean – I didn’t – I don’t think I _could_ have felt that way about anyone, back then. There sort of… wasn’t room for it.” For a moment he gestures vaguely, hands forming meaningless shapes in the air. This is always the bit he struggles with in therapy, finding the words for things. “That’s not the right way to put it…”

 

“I think I get it,” Ino says comfortingly. “If there was anything like that, back then, it wasn’t getting through to you.” He nods, and she goes on, more confidently now: “Maybe you could tell there was something there – not like it is now – but very distantly, like light through fog… but it was too far off to feel, somehow, right?”

 

“Right.” He nods again: Ino’s always good at phrasing this stuff so it makes sense. “And towards the end I just felt so _tired_ , and so relieved, and… it’s like at the end of a really long mission, when you come in exhausted and soaked and you’re kind of relieved to be back, but you don’t have the energy to feel it?” Ino makes an affirmative noise. “In the end… it was for him, in a way, or at least because of him, but… it wasn’t because of that. There was no way I could have felt that. I just – you could almost have called it – brotherly.” He knows his voice has gone very quiet. “It didn’t matter what it was. I just cared about him.”

 

Ino nods. “Really kind of… pure, in a way,” she offers. She must see the way he lets his head hang, as if weighed down by the truth of this, because she goes on more light-heartedly: “Aw, that’s cute.” Sasuke’s head comes up sharply at the sound of her giggling, but she pays no attention to his scowl. “Who knew Uchiha Sasuke could be that genuinely sweet?”

 

“You realise that if you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you,” Sasuke fires back, with as straight a face as he can muster.

 

“Like you could take me,” Ino retorts. Sasuke genuinely doesn’t know if he could any more. He and Team Seven are kind of in a league of their own, that’s true enough, but Ino’s _really_ good at what she does. And she fights smart. He’s pretty sure he’d win two times out of three, though.

 

Well. Maybe three times out of five is a better estimate.

 

“ _Anyway_ ,” he says firmly, “it’s never going to happen.”

 

At this Ino looks like she might burst into laughter again, but somehow she controls herself. “Hey, don’t sell yourself short,” she says, grinning. “I might not be a twelve-year-old with a crush on you any more, but I can still honestly say you grew up hot. And you’re really good at what you do, that’s always a plus.” Sasuke looks determinedly at the floor. He used to like compliments, when he was little, he vaguely remembers. How things have changed. “And besides, it’s _Naruto_. Did you just somehow forget that that he was kind of obsessed – well, maybe _focused_ is a better word” – Sasuke wonders if he should remind her that she doesn’t have to be nice about Naruto in front of him – “he was really focused on you for all those years? I promise you, no-one stuck in the village with him could.”

 

Sasuke shrugs awkwardly. He’s slowly coming to terms with all of that, but it doesn’t mean he feels comfortable talking about it. “That wasn’t why he went after me,” he says uneasily. “He always kind of thought of me as – family. Because I was part of his team. I think he felt like he had to. Like he had to _earn_ his family, by keeping it together. Or something.”

 

Ino shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s quite it,” she says. “I mean, you might have something there, but I don’t think that’s _all_ of it. But anyway, I was kind of joking. I mean, it’s obvious he cares about you to a ridiculous degree, he always has, but you’re right, that’s not why. But – my God, Sasuke, have you seriously not noticed the way he looks at you? _Seriously_?” 

 

Sasuke stares at her blankly.

 

Ino swats at the back of his head. “You have the _Sharingan_ ,” she says incredulously, sounding as if he has fundamentally disappointed her. “Your clan specialty is _doujutsu_. You are supposed to be _good at seeing things_.” Sasuke continues to stare back at her, unmoved. “I don’t – I can’t believe this. God, it’s not like he’s _subtle_ about it –”

 

“Has he ever been subtle?” Sasuke mutters.

 

“That just makes it even more disappointing,” Ino informs him. “You’re a goddamn _shinobi_. Noticing things is part of the job description – let alone noticing the _bleeding obvious_ –” She throws up her hands in despair. “Let me tell you, on behalf of literally everyone who has ever been in the same room as you two, that guy is pining.”

 

Sasuke doesn’t say anything to that; he allows the dubious arch of his eyebrows to speak for him.

 

“ _Pining_ ,” Ino says again, slowly this time, as if trying to explain something to a small child. “He looks at you like you’re the sun, moon and stars rolled into one. If you have ever seen a young child looking in awe at a particularly amazing birthday present, and then put that to the power of ten, that would be roughly his expression when he looks at you. Am I getting through here?”

 

Sasuke shifts uncomfortably, and some small part of his mind – which has _never_ received any encouragement from the rest, he maintains – wonders hopefully if maybe some of those looks Naruto gives him, like he doesn’t believe Sasuke’s really here, actually mean something different from what Sasuke thought.

 

“It’s _not_ ,” he says, again, “going to _happen_. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen Naruto pine in his life.”

 

“That’s because you’ve been out of the village for the past few years,” Ino counters, unfazed, “which ought to be your biggest clue yet. But it’s got _way_ worse since you got back, anyway, so you have no excuse for missing it.”

 

Sasuke sends her a particularly venomous glare. “He’s probably going to marry Sakura,” he mutters. “God knows he’s been obsessed with her for years. And then they’ll have ridiculously talented children, and he’ll spoil them beyond belief.”

 

“He is _not_ marrying Sakura,” Ino retorts, voice still slightly amused. “Much as she loves him, Sakura wouldn’t touch him with a stick. Besides, she’s got her eye on someone else, and no, I’m not telling you who it is. And Hinata’s outgrown him – although there was one point where I think everyone wondered… But it turned out they were just hanging out as friends. I swear, I don’t know how those two get on so well…”

 

Sasuke hadn’t known Naruto had even realised Hinata existed. “Besides, it’s not those two you should be worrying about,” Ino goes on. “He used to travel with Jiraiya, he’s probably been all over the Five Nations by this time – and who knows what kind of places he visited, if he was with Jiraiya,” she adds, eyebrows arching suggestively. Sasuke’s glare grows, if possible, even more venomous. “If you don’t have any competition out there, I don’t think you need to worry about competition within the village.”

 

This does not make Sasuke feel any better. “You’re kidding yourself,” he says, half-mumbling now. “It’s never going to happen.” He thinks he might be blushing. Shit.

 

“Do I detect self-esteem issues with a  side of guilt?” Ino says sharply, but then seems to take pity on him. “All right, I won’t bother you about it any longer. Just keep in mind – Naruto’s pretty stubborn, you know. He knows his own mind. I don’t really think any of your worries about whether you’re good enough, or whatever, are going to sway him.”

 

She does drop it, then, but echoes of their conversation stay with Sasuke, pestering him whenever he least expects it. Especially around Naruto. The staring-at-Naruto thing that keeps happening at Ichiraku is suddenly happening a lot more – not when Naruto’s speaking, then Sasuke feels anchored to that bright voice, but when they’re both eating Sasuke’s eyes seem to catch and linger on him until he actually looks up from his ramen and asks if Sasuke wanted something. Sasuke is aware that he’s being way too obvious. It’s just that he can’t _stop_.

 

The whole world feels – more alive, somehow. Light and fragile and ready to burst at any moment, and heavy, dense with meaning, and – it’s like some of the forests he’s travelled through, which would have been heartbreakingly beautiful if he’d had eyes for the scenery at the time. Full of birdsong and overgrown with ferns and the sky hidden behind a ceiling of arching, spreading branches, heavy with leaves, tiny plants springing up everywhere, and even the air felt alive. So full of life you couldn’t get more in if you tried.

 

Maybe it’s because of the way that now, when he agrees to train with Naruto, the open joy in Naruto’s voice sends a thrill of equal parts elation and fear through him, the way he meets Naruto’s eyes these days and almost thinks he sees a mirrored longing in them – burning blue – the way he’s hyperaware of every small touch, the way he lets Naruto throw an arm over his shoulders and feels Naruto relax against him – All the stakes are higher now. Maybe that’s what hope does.

 

(It’s almost worth the way Ino looks like she might burst into laughter whenever she sees them.)

 

He keeps expecting something awful to happen, a catastrophic falling-out, or worse, some ridiculously inane misunderstanding that’ll bring everything crashing down. Instead things just – _keep going well_. Apart from the one week when Naruto takes a longer mission than usual, in which Sasuke insists he isn’t moping until Ino actually threatens to take control of his body and send him off to find Naruto if he keeps this up. But even that’s balanced out when Naruto comes back, and looks so delighted to see Sasuke waiting at the gate (pretending that the gate guards aren’t laughing at him and that he hasn’t been there for half an hour already) that Sasuke’s jaw almost drops, and the painful tug in his chest turns to a downright yank.

 

They spar frequently, and if the flurry of movement and the pattern of step and counter-step are like lightning playing under Sasuke’s skin, the blazing look and roguish grin that Naruto sends at him are more electric still. They go for ramen and after a while Sasuke stops asking if Sakura’s going to join them. Naruto seems to pull him into everything – buying fresh kunai, doing D-ranks for old times’ sake, late-night sessions at his apartment experimenting with seals and Naruto’s usual ridiculous ideas for new ninjutsu (and if Naruto is even _more_ unfairly attractive when he’s alight with another blindingly brilliant idea that by all rights shouldn’t work but does, Sasuke has no intention of admitting it to anyone).

 

In short, the only thing they haven’t done yet is move their relationship forward. If it is a relationship. If Naruto is even vaguely familiar with the word. It’s frustrating, being this – for lack of a better word – happy, and still wanting more. It feels subtly wrong. Sasuke starts feeling constantly on edge, balanced on a knife-edge between shaky joy and that awful fearful sense of dissatisfaction. He wants something to happen, and nothing is, and the worst part is that he can’t even make _himself_ act. The thought is so alien that it doesn’t even occur to him until Ino points it out.

 

They seem to hit a point where the tension doesn’t even build, any more; it’s a plateau, as high as it can possibly get. And now they’re stuck there. Some part of Sasuke, which he pretends doesn’t exist, files away every throwaway glance, memorises the pattern of Naruto’s fingerprints on his skin after every casual touch, and hoards them as if against some future famine. Sasuke grits his teeth and goes about his day as if it’s enough. 

 

Eventually he actually does end up kind of avoiding Naruto. He doesn’t _mean_ to do it, really, but it just sort of happens. He’s heading towards Ichiraku and sees a shock of golden hair and hears a distinctive laugh, and suddenly he just feels too tired for this. He can’t handle any more of that on-edge feeling today. So he heads in the opposite direction – which means he now has to take the long way round to the training ground he meant to go to, and by the time he gets there his mind is whirling with the thoughts of what it would have been like if he’d gone to talk to Naruto instead. He’s not actually any better off, the thoughts race round and round his head until he’s exhausted and they’re exhausted and they still keep going. But now it’s easier to cave to the feeling of weariness when he sees Naruto. Now that he’s started giving up, he can’t stop.

 

He’s pretty sure, from some of the glares Sakura’s been throwing him lately, that she’d beat him up if she had enough free time away from the hospital. Which probably means Naruto’s noticed. _Shit_. He might be hurting Naruto again, this is exactly what he was afraid of, that he’d start doing something to hurt Naruto and not be able to _stop_ –

 

Naruto leaves the village on another week-long mission.

 

Sasuke regrets his entire life, and particularly the last few weeks of it. In the yawning space left by the absence of that shock of blond hair and flurry of eager movement, the silence where he keeps expecting that warm laugh, his reason for avoiding Naruto seems very small, and his decision very, very foolish. He doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not moping, this time. It keeps suddenly occurring to him that he wants to see Naruto – not for any reason, just to see that stupid handsome face and hear that stupid bright voice – and he can’t, and the sharp ache in his chest becomes merciless, and he bites his lip and shakes his head as if to shake the sadness off, but it always settles there again like snow. The worst part is he was missing Naruto even before, but then it was his _own fault_ and he could have _done something_ and now he can’t. They should just crown him king of bad decisions already, it’s not like he doesn’t have a track record there.

 

Ino, who’s been busy for a while, finally finds the time to track him down and tell him off. She doesn’t pull her punches. Sakura uses her strength to make people hurt; Ino, who doesn’t have it, uses words, which from her are far more effective.  Sasuke sits through it and doesn’t say a word, like a small child being told off when they’re already too upset to argue back, and almost feels the childish urge to cry. He has been more miserable than this before, but right now it’s difficult to remember how. _Yes, I know_ , some part of him snarls – a wounded animal – as Ino berates him, _I know, I’m a complete fuckup, just – why are you so hung up on this, we all know I always fuck it up in the end, just stop –_

 

At some point Ino must notice, because she relents. “Hey,” she says, gentle, a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it too much. It’s only a week, he’ll be back soon enough. And once he gets back you can talk to him about it, OK?”

 

“OK,” Sasuke agrees quietly.

 

“You better promise me,” Ino commands, something of a return to their usual banter, and that at least gets a wan smile from Sasuke.

 

He does promise, but as fate would have it, he’s out of the village the day Naruto gets back. By putting in more effort than the mission really deserves, he gets back that night, exhausted, filthy with sweat and flecks of dirt and blood, and looking forward to nothing so much as a hot shower and sleep. He scrawls a mission report half-asleep and hands it in to Iruka-sensei on the mission desk, who takes one look at him and then takes the report without saying anything, confirming Sasuke’s suspicions that he looks like shit.

 

He’s halfway to his apartment, running on autopilot, when he remembers that Naruto’s back. Briefly he considers going home anyway, for a shower, at least, before going to see Naruto; he dismisses the thought just as quickly. If he goes home he’s going to collapse straight after his shower and fall asleep. An exhausted smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth, he turns his steps towards Naruto’s apartment.

 

When he reaches the door – having dragged himself up the stairs by sheer force of will – he finds that he doesn’t need to knock: it’s already open, albeit only a crack. Naruto must be really tired, he thinks, and the thought brings with it a rush of warm fondness.  He wonders if Naruto is asleep in there. Carefully, quietly, he pushes the door open.

 

Naruto isn’t asleep. Naruto is curled up with Sakura on the sofa, his head pillowed on her shoulder, her graceful medic-nin’s hand stroking absently through his hair, and they both look so perfectly comfortable that it sends a flash of coldness through Sasuke. That closeness. That closeness he’ll never have, that he doesn’t _deserve_ –

 

 _He’s probably going to marry Sakura_ , he’d said to Ino, and Ino had sounded amused as she’d denied it. For once, out of the two of them, Sasuke is right. The thought does not bring him any joy.

 

The air suddenly feels very cold around him, the staircase dark and gloomy behind. He feels a lump in his throat. He can’t tell if he feels sick, or feels like crying, or feels like standing stock still. Like he is right now. He can’t move his feet. He can’t speak, he can’t get any sound out, his voice sticks in his throat. It’s stupid, this is stupid – it’s _stupid_ – but seeing the two of them like that, the closeness between them – Naruto doesn’t let people that close easily, not after all these years, and Sakura – the naked affection on her face, the perfect relaxation in her limbs – it’s _stupid_ , he’s always known this is how it would end, ever since he came back to Konoha in the first place –

 

He could swear he doesn’t move, but still some tiny sound escapes his throat, hoarse and helpless. Then all of a sudden Naruto is sitting up, face open and shocked, blue eyes wide and hair in disarray from how quickly he lifted his head, and Sakura’s gaze is a little surprised but somehow _knowing_. Naruto makes as if to get up from the sofa and that’s Sasuke’s cue to leave. He turns on his heel before he can see any more than that one glimpse, races down the stairs again and out into the night.

 

The stars are bright and unforgiving in the dark, empty vaults of the sky. Sasuke’s vision blurs for a moment; a disgusted swipe of his arm across his eyes clears it, briefly at least. He’s thinking, _I need to go and get very, very drunk_ , but it’s not really getting through, it’s like all his thoughts are being shouted from very far away. He tries not to think about the huge coldness spreading through his chest, pushing at his ribcage. It’s so dark out here.

 

He hears footsteps behind him, and speeds up without actually running. He should make a run for it, put some chakra into his pace – he should Shunshin out of there – he does neither of these things. He can’t make himself, and besides, if anything would make him feel more like a humiliated coward, that would. Instead he just walks faster, eyes fixed on the ground. Someone is shouting, far away. Roughly he wipes his eyes again. 

 

“ _Sasuke!_ ” Naruto yells, practically next to him, and a hand grabs onto his. He notices detachedly that his hand is cold against the other, which is odd, because he was too hot earlier. Naruto’s hand is a vice around his. He tries to shake off that warm grip and keep walking, but it doesn't work. 

 

Naruto seizes his shoulders, manhandles Sasuke around to face him. “I don’t know what you thought you saw,” he says, voice almost a snarl, raw and burning, “but you – don’t go haring off on your own without even _trying_ to –”

 

“Just shut up,” Sasuke grits out, blinking against the heat in his eyes that promises tears to come, “just _shut up_ , go back to your apartment, just _leave_ it –”

 

“When will you _get it through your head_ that I’m never going to do that –” Naruto’s fingers cling to his shoulders, digging into the fabric of his shirt – “whatever you thought you saw, it wasn’t – argh, I was asking her for help about _you_ , you _asshole_ –”

 

“Shut up _shut up_ –” The treacherous heat behind his eyes grows, he feels them grow damp –

 

“ _No_ , you – _listen_ , it wasn’t anything, I just told you I was asking for her _help_ –” Naruto must see something in his face, because there’s a softening in his voice, a note more of desperation than of anger – “ _stop_ that, stop trying to – to convince yourself that you can’t ever have what you want –”

 

“ _Shut up!_ ” Sasuke snaps, his voice approaching a shout, but to his horror it breaks and the anger he’s fallen back on gives way to a pathetic-sounding hurt. “Shut up, just go back to her, I didn’t _ask_ you to –”

 

The words stop in his throat.  One of Naruto’s hands has wandered upwards, into the junction between his neck and the line of his jaw, fingers twining in his hair. “Sasuke?” Naruto’s voice is very soft.

 

Helpless, wordless, he stares.

 

“Hit me if I’m being stupid, OK?” Naruto murmurs, and then surges forwards to cover Sasuke’s lips with his own.

 

It’s – God. It’s frantic and insistent and yearning and Sasuke’s eyes slip closed without thinking, and there are hands cupping around his head, holding him in place as Naruto presses up against him, lips moving against his, and all of a sudden it’s – it’s fire and lightning and Sasuke’s breath hitches, and somehow he’s against a wall, now, Naruto pressing in close like he can’t bear to be away from Sasuke and their mouths meet again and Sasuke reaches out and clings to the back of Naruto’s jacket, barely aware of what he’s doing –

 

Someone gasps for breath. Their mouths part for a moment, but then Naruto is back again, this time with soft kisses, unbearably gentle, like spring rain so fine it’s almost mist, and Sasuke feels that painful tug in his chest again, hurting more cleanly now, a thousand times better. He kisses back and it’s the only thing he can think of.

 

At length they break away from each other. Naruto is staring at him, blue eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that’s unfamiliar – how has Sasuke never noticed that before – and the smile stretching at his mouth isn’t the wide one he gives the village, it’s a different one, sun-fire and hearth-fire mingled. “God,” Naruto breathes, and pulls Sasuke into a hug, arms around him like they want to linger there forever, like Naruto is savouring it.

 

Sasuke thinks, dazedly, that Naruto definitely learned something when he was travelling with Jiraiya. Then he attempts to feel irritated by the thought, but right now that’s impossible.

 

“This is all wrong,” he says, as they walk back towards Naruto’s apartment. “There has to be a catch somewhere, there’s no way this could happen without some kind of ridiculous drama.”

 

“You avoided me for weeks and then ran out of my apartment into the night because you assumed Sakura and I were a thing from one glimpse, are you saying that doesn’t count?” Naruto argues back, grinning.

 

“Yes,” Sasuke replies drily. “Don’t forget it’s _us_ you’re talking about. I mean this somehow happened without – the village burning down, or anything.”

 

Naruto laughs, and his gaze is warm: Sasuke could fall into it forever. “I could still burn something down for you, if you wanted,” he offers.

 

“Which one of us is the Uchiha here?” Sasuke says, mock-offended. “Amateurs shouldn’t mess with Katon jutsu,” and that’s what sets them both off laughing hysterically, all the way back to Naruto’s apartment.

 

Sakura just shakes her head and says she’s done with the pair of them.  

 

_I don’t care, go on and tear me apart_

_I don’t care if you do_

_’Cause in a sky, ’cause in a sky full of stars_

_I think I saw you_

**Author's Note:**

> i swear these dorks are going to kill me someday
> 
> i can't write and the pacing is crap but at least this is done
> 
> and it is only fair to say that it was at least partially inspired by [this picture](http://dakkar-h.deviantart.com/art/141212-342779515)


End file.
